


Confessional

by UAA



Category: South Park
Genre: Choirboy Butters, I dunno if anyone's gonna get pissed off by the stuff, Imp Tweek Tweak, M/M, Youth Pastor Craig Tucker, i seriously have no idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:46:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24793330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UAA/pseuds/UAA
Summary: young pastor Craig/ imp TweekAltered the age of the characters.I hope ppl don't butcher me for the inaccuracy in my work lol
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	Confessional

_“I never thought you would become a pastor, Craig. You’ve always wanted to be an astronaut, didn’t you?  
“ ‘Honey, that’s a supernova. A supernova happens either during the last evolutionary stage of a massive star or when a white dwarf is triggered into runaway nuclear fusion.’  
“ ‘Deneb, Vega, and Altair. That’s the Summer Triangle. If you draw a line from Vega to Altair, you can see the Milky Way run between them while Deneb bobs in the river of stars.‘  
“Do you remember yelling ‘Gott ist tot’ during stargazing sessions? Funny, we never even cared about what it truly meant. And here you are, a servant of God. What changed, Craig?”  
“Tweek? Tweek, is that you?”  
“Don’t be silly. Tweek Tweak died, don’t you remember? 1982. It was a summer morning. The phone at your house rang, it’s the fat prick. Hey Craig, did you hear? Your boyfriend’s gone missing. Was he making out with you last night? The next thing you knew you were running down the street. There are police officers around the Tweak residence. They’re all fucking useless! Leaving the booth would be unprofessional for you, wouldn’t it, Father? Please, withdraw your hand from the knob.”  
“My attention is only obliged to God’s people.”_ Craig’s voice was shaking.  
_“Are you going to run away again, Craig? I told you there was somebody stalking me. And what did you say? ‘It’s alright honey, nothing’s gonna hurt you. You’ve just been seeing things.’ ‘I know what I saw, Craig. You have to believe me!’ You paused for a really long moment after I said this. At that time, I didn’t know why you had that expression on your face. It’s like you were watching pigs being loaded into trucks destined for the slaughter house.”_  
A moment of silence.  
_“But that’s because you just found out that my parents were spiking my coffee with meth, right? Thinking back, did you ever believe in me? They’re all lies, aren’t they? Saying that I’m capable of more than I think, saying that I’ll be fine on my own, saying that you’d be there if anything goes wrong.”  
“Begone, minion of Satan. Return to the fiery pits you call home, the Church does not welcome those that do the evil biddings of Satan.”  
“Did you know what he did to me? The press release was very disappointing. You see, Craig, the newspaper said I was raped before I was strangled. I was strangled before being raped. I put up a really good fight, so they had no choice but to kill me beforehand.”  
“Crux sacra sit mihi lux! Nunquam draco sit mihi dux--”  
“Are you going to kill me again, Craig? You’re forcing yourself to do things against your will. I missed you, I really did. Don’t tell me you didn’t, Craig. Please, don’t.”  
“--Vade retro Satana! Nunquam suade mihi vana!--”  
“Why are you always running away, Craig? Science failed you, they never found the culprit, so now you turn to religion. What if religion fails you too? Where are you going to go then?”  
“--Sunt mala quae libas. Ipse venena bibas!”_  
Silence fell upon the confession booth. Through the screen faint golden light spilled onto Craig’s features. Cold beads of sweat slid down the back of Craig’s neck, repeatedly muttering words of exorcism. Tweek was dead, they found his body a few days after the abduction. A shriveled, black oval was what he had reduced to when Craig arrived at the scene. Three, two, one. Gloved hands lifted the body bag, the men were closing onto him. Someone pulled him backwards, making way for the forensics. Son, you’ll have to leave here. Stay behind the line.  
But I loved him.  
_“Craig. You are a disappointment. I expected better from you.”  
“Crux sacra sit mihi lux, nunquam draco sit mihi dux, vade retro Satana--”_  
A little sigh sounded from the other side of the screen, the wooden structure creaked and clear clopping sounds of hooves against wood echoed in the church. Craig’s fingers were wrapped tightly against his silver cross, muttering the lines of St. Benedict exorcism medal over and over. He thought about leaving the confessional, to chase after the evilness that had just spoken to him, but he found his legs shaking and his body ruled against this will. He sat in the dim booth, whispering and shaking until the sound of hooves disappeared and was replaced by the calls of Butters.  
_“Father Tucker? Father Tucker, where are you? Are you alright?”_ The bright voice of his choirboy was now mingled with a touch of worry. Craig pushed open the confessional door.  
_“Father, what has happened? You look awful!”_ The blonde boy squeaked.  
_“Nothing, Butters, Nothing. Run along with your friends, I’ll take care of the rest on my own.”_  
_“But Father, what about the rehearsal?”_  
_“Practice canceled. I’m sure your fellow members would be glad to hear so.”_ He managed a weak smile. Butters picked at the spotless hems of his surplice, uncertainty dancing in his blue innocent eyes.  
_“If you say so, Father.”_ He turned and ran off, pale, upturned hair bouncing up and down as he did so. Craig slumped down onto a wooden bench, staring blankly at the altar and the stained glass beyond. Abandoned apple cores under the tree. A game of stone skipping by the turquoise creek. He had kissed Tweek in a sea of gold, against a grey, patchy, aspen trunk. The kiss was out of curiosity and in a manner he picked up from television; the host had lowered down until he was on the same level with the girls, then leaned in for the kiss. The brief interaction between the two sets of lips sent a shock down his spine, calm water was disturbed by the osprey snatching its prey.  
Tweek spluttered his name, his hands flew up, first snatching aimlessly in the air before landing his boney fingers onto his head. He tugged at his pale strands, blinked, twitched, and squeaked twice, but nonetheless forgave him. As their fingers entwined and began down the small dirt road, Tweek picked on the edges of his white shirt and said, _Craig, I have something to tell you. It’s serious.  
Go on, babe. I trust you.  
I think I’m being stalked. _  
Craig Tucker wept silently in the hollow church on a golden Friday afternoon.

**Author's Note:**

> I watched a vid. for that host kissing girl stuff.  
> It was pretty spooky. 
> 
> And.  
> I can't write I guess?


End file.
